Finn's Mistake
by ficscribbler
Summary: Will the others be able to avert disaster when Finn decides to tease the wrong person?


**Finn's Mistake**

Summary: _Will the others be able to avert disaster when Finn decides to tease the wrong person? _

Disclaimer: _The Lost World does not belong to me. *sigh* It belongs to New Line Television, the Over the Hill Gang, et al, …_

A/N: This story was written for TLWfix's Challenge #4 back in Oct 2002.

**********

Finn sauntered along, enjoying the beauty of the plateau day. For once, there was no sign of raptors or pterodactyls or trogs - or any of the myriad of dangerous creatures that seemed to fill this place. During rare days like these, this plateau seemed almost perfect. Even the breeze was cool and fresh today, instead of warm and heavy. It put her in charity with the world in general, and her new family in particular.

Just this morning Vee had been talking about a tree not far away, where the best honey on the plateau was to be found. The youngest member of the tree house family had decided to fetch some back for her friends, as a surprise. Finn had listened to her companions commiserating with one another about the fact that they had been out of honey for too long now, and debating whether they would have time to gather more any time soon. But even though this tree was close, they all had too many other things that needed to be done just now to take the time to fetch honey, too. Finn, however, had worked extra hard to quickly finish her chores in the garden and the tree house and managed to creep off without alerting anyone to her departure.

Vee was busy helping Challenger reorganize the books in the tree house to accommodate his journals and scientific volumes, as well as Malone's journals of their expedition, which had been piling up as Challenger rapidly gathered data on the Plateau. Roxton and Marguerite had taken the week's laundry down to the pond to do. They would all be at their tasks for hours longer, and Finn should have plenty of time to find the tree.

Of course, Vee hadn't been specific about the location, but how hard could it be to find a tree filled with buzzing bees? Finn knew the general direction, because Vee and Roxton had been laughing about how they had been chased away from the tree and through thorny blackberry-type bushes by the swarm of angry bees the last time they had gone to collect the coveted sweetener. This was enough to give Finn a pretty good idea of where to begin looking for the honey tree.

Finn knew exactly where those thorny bushes were. She had dived into them on a previous occasion while playing a game with the older plateau-born blonde - though Veronica insisted she was training the younger girl to track and conceal tracks, rather than playing a simple game of hide and seek. No, Finn would never forget those bushes after the length of time she had endured the indignity of having Veronica pick the thorns out of her backside for her that day. Once she reached the bushes again, she would probably be able to hear the hum of the hive in the honey tree and could follow the bees' buzzing directly to the source of the coveted honey.

A smile curved the young blonde's lips upward as she dwelled on the anticipated pleasure she would be giving Vee and the others. Roxton apparently loved honey in his tea as much as Vee liked it on her bread, and Vee had said Challenger liked honey on his oatmeal. Marguerite probably liked honey, too, Finn smirked to herself, since the sticky stuff was gold-colored.

Marguerite had been at the table during the conversation but hadn't contributed much, mostly keeping her own counsel as she usually did unless in a foul mood. Finn's smirk vanished as she considered the enigma that the older woman represented.

Even though she had known Marguerite for weeks longer than she had known Veronica, who had been away when Finn returned from the future with the other three, she knew less about the dark-haired beauty than about anyone else in the tree house. Sometimes she had the feeling none of the others really knew the "mysterious Miss Krux", as Ned had called her in one of his early journals, any better than Finn. Except maybe Roxton, who seemed to have an uncanny ability to understand the mercurial brunette almost perfectly, although there were times it didn't seem to help him get along with her any better than the others managed.

There was something about Marguerite . . . as if she had a wall up around herself to repel everyone else. She used it least of all with Roxton, of course, and she sometimes let it down for Challenger and Veronica, too. Marguerite was still watching the newcomer cautiously, almost as if she was taking the measure of this youngest addition to the tree house. Finn didn't think the caustic dark-haired beauty was too anxious to consider her a member of their established family.

But that was okay. Finn had been doing some watching of her own since tagging along to the past with George Challenger and his companions. So she didn't hold Marguerite's caution against her. In fact, it made Finn regard the brunette with more respect.

Where Finn came from, survival required people to exercise caution about relaxing your guard with others. You never knew where danger or betrayal might come from. And in her brief experience on this plateau, things hadn't changed in this regard just because she was living a bunch of years in the past now. If anything, Finn thought people should be even more cautious in this time period, since things were always changing - what did Challenger call the way things changed here?

"Shifting planes of reality", that was it. Funny way of saying weird stuff happened.

Some of the weird stuff happened really suddenly, and something that was here one day might be gone the next. Other things changed more slowly over time, so slowly that no one noticed it happening. Challenger had told her that his Expedition had spent months mapping the plateau after being trapped here, seeking to find a way off so they could get back home. Even now that they had realized that the plateau was "dynamic" - another of Challenger's fancy words that meant 'always changing' - so that a map that was correct one day wasn't accurate only a few months later, they still kept tramping around taking measurements and drawing maps. Challenger was hoping to eventually see some kind of patterns in the - um, what was that long word he had used? It was harder to remember than dynamic, which sounded so much like 'dynamite', a word Finn understood quite well.

"Elasticity, yeah, e-las-ti-ci-ty." Finn rolled the word around in her mouth carefully as she stepped over a fallen tree and continued along the faint path through the jungle undergrowth.

When she had asked her surrogate father what THAT meant, the lanky red-headed genius had explained that it meant stretching out. He'd elaborated that the plateau's overall geography didn't seem to change abruptly, like some of its surface features did. Rather, it seemed to grow in one place a little at a time, shrinking in some other place, getting higher here, growing a forest there, shifting the edge of the plateau a little at a time, a river bed drying up here, then appearing in a new location, changing the features so slightly that without constant measurement it would be almost unnoticeable. Even the alert Veronica hadn't realized it, at least consciously, until after they began using Challenger's surveying instruments and discovered the discrepancies between Challenger's data and the maps Vee and her parents had made.

So, given that the ground was changeable and unreliable here, and that Marguerite held herself back even from the people she'd been living with for the last three years, it made perfect sense to the young girl from the future that the older woman should be cautious about trusting Finn, a newcomer.

Yet while Marguerite's wariness was admirable with regard to Finn, why did she maintain that distance from Challenger and Veronica - and sometimes from Roxton, too? This was the mystery that was Marguerite, and Finn wanted to understand. Moreover, there was something about Marguerite that drew Finn to her. Finn wanted to become friends with the mysterious Miss Krux, just as she had with the other tree house dwellers.

Finn had been suspicious of this group of explorers at first. Challenger had seemed childishly gullible when she first met him in New Amazonia. Now, of course, she understood that it was merely his way to be excitable when he was discovering something new. Marguerite hadn't seemed like a mystery, on that first day. No, Finn hadn't had any trouble understanding the lovely brunette's dislike of New Amazonia and the distrust exhibited toward the young blonde who had stolen Marguerite's backpack and threatened the visitors from the past. She hadn't questioned Roxton's hurry to get away from the slavers, either - slavers were one thing her future had in common with the plateau of this past era.

Challenger's pleasure and eagerness at discovering that Finn had transported back into the past with them had warmed her heart, though she hadn't let it show, of course, since that would have been a tactical error. Besides, she had been uneasy with the strange warmth engendered in her chest by the eldest man's delight that she had come along - caring what someone else thought was a weakness. She'd been much more reassured by Roxton's more watchful welcome, and had been totally comfortable with Marguerite's attitude of barely tolerating Finn's presence in their own time and tree house. Roxton and Marguerite's reactions were more like future attitudes, and Finn had been more ready to accept their guardedness than the open welcome George Challenger had shown.

But Roxton hadn't taken long to decide that Finn wasn't a threat to his "family", and to relax into treating Finn with an affable brotherliness that had been secretly almost as heartwarming to the lonely young blonde as Challenger's affectionate fascination with her. Perhaps that funny warm feeling was why Finn had grown to trust the two tall lean men nearly as quickly as they had taken to her.

The elder man was a constant marvel to her, with his boundless energy and thirst for knowledge, and his determination to use his knowledge to create things to better their lives . . . and to get them all "home", of course. He could get adorably flustered, or impossibly cryptic, if you asked him the wrong questions, Finn thought to herself with a smirk as she hopped up on a log and walked along it carefully for a few yards. Anything scientific or moral would elicit a nearly endless explanation from Professor Challenger, while questions about relationships tended to be answered in brief sentences that didn't usually leave her any the wiser.

But most of the time George was infinitely patient with Finn's own quest to learn about everything around her. Finn loved this "lost world" that had opened to her when she jumped into that flash of light after the explorers that fateful day. She loved the jungle, and the dinosaurs, and the widely divergent groups of natives . . . and her new "family".

Finn aimed her crossbow at a snake, but it slithered off the path before she decided whether to actually shoot it or not, so she lowered her weapon. Never waste an arrow; it could mean your life. The hunter of the group, Roxton, had earned her respect even before leaving her time, with his marksmanship and courage. He was very handsome - though old, of course. Not as old as Challenger, but still . . . old. Nonetheless, Lord John Roxton was in remarkable physical condition, probably from always being on the run to save someone's life again. Watching the hunter was an education all in itself, as Finn had never before known a man so willing to endanger his own life for the sake of others weaker than himself. He had a funny sense of humor, and for a strong man he was incredibly tender. Moreover, he never shirked doing what needed to be done. Even if he hadn't been so obviously head over heels in love with Marguerite, Finn knew she would have had nothing to fear from Roxton, any more than she would have needed to fear Professor George Challenger.

She had come to adore the two men, admiring them both. Anything they liked, she was willing to like as well. Since they had all spoken so highly of Veronica Layton - even the sharp-tongued gem-hunter had spoken with softer, respectful tones of their absent hostess - Finn hadn't doubted for a moment that she would like Veronica as much as the others did. When the older plateau-born blonde had returned, Vee had proven to be everything the others had said. She was so much fun! She was skilled in all kinds of wonderful stunts, could fight like a demon, and knew all sorts of wonderful tidbits about simply everything! If Vee had been with Finn in the future, they could have kicked some serious butt! Finn idolized the slightly older blonde, even with all the weird stuff about her being the Protector of the Plateau. The younger girl's current goal was to emulate Veronica in every way possible.

It was Veronica's respect for Marguerite that sealed Finn's determination to figure out what made the brunette tick and to find a way to break through that wall so they could become friends. The men's attachment to the slender woman was perfectly understandable. Marguerite was a beautiful woman, and used that fact better than any other woman Finn had ever known. Finn had seen the wily beauty twist the otherwise-canny hunter to her will often - though, to be fair to Roxton, he also managed to work his own will with Marguerite on a regular basis. Challenger, for some reason Finn hadn't yet figured out, tended to be indulgent of their resident paradox. "Paradox". She liked the word. When she'd first heard Challenger use it and asked what it meant, the explanation had struck her as perfectly describing Marguerite: 'a statement that contradicts itself'. Perhaps that was why the ginger-haired scientist liked her, because he loved learning to understand things, and there was so much to figure out about the beautiful brunette. Of course, it might be also be because Marguerite was so smart and helped him in the lab. But there was an affection for her, very much like Challenger's affection for Finn and Veronica, that implied he knew something that excused Marguerite's frequent curtness and occasional temper.

Whatever it was, Challenger wasn't sharing it with Finn, and Finn had yet to discover it for herself.

But discover it she would. Finn could be very patient when a goal was worth attaining. And since the three people she valued most in her life all respected and cared for Marguerite, Finn wanted - more than she would admit even to herself - to be counted with the others in the tree house as being among the few who Marguerite genuinely cared about.

She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something about the cool brunette, something hidden behind those odd fey eyes of hers that seemed to see straight into Finn's innermost thoughts.

Finn shook her head, noting suddenly that she was almost to the berry patch. Yup, another long hike that had passed in the blink of an eye while she was trying to figure out Marguerite! Vee would scold her for letting herself be preoccupied while in the jungle, she reminded herself sternly. She should focus on her immediate object and work out a strategy for befriending Marguerite _later_.

The agile blonde picked up her pace to a smooth lope, angling downhill a bit, and then somersaulted over the prickly bushes with more care than she usually employed in her gymnastics. No room for miscalculations if she was to avoid those thorns. She landed lightly and stood still to listen.

Odd. She hadn't noticed that until just now. The breeze was picking up. It didn't usually get stronger in the middle of the day like this. Hmmm, that might be helpful in getting smoke into the honey tree to quiet the bees.

Finn squinted up at the clouds in the sky, knowing that was what George would suggest. Always be aware of the weather conditions on the plateau, he was constantly saying. The trees were kind of thick here, but she could make out a series of heavy dark clouds moving closer. Better keep an eye on that. Big storms in the jungle could be trouble, Vee had warned her.

Keeping a wary watch on the clouds, she tilted her head to one side and refocused on listening.

Sure enough, she could hear a faint buzzing sound. She grinned widely to herself and strolled onward in the direction of the honey tree. The two jars she had brought clanked a bit against one another in the shoulder pack she had borrowed to carry her prize home again. She nearly skipped in delight at the thought of the look that would be on Challenger's face in the morning when she put the jars of honey down on the table for breakfast.

Kind of funny, this pleasure she was finding in doing nice things for her new family. She'd been pretty young the last time she'd had anyone to create surprises for, perhaps too young to do such things. She couldn't recall anticipating someone else's happiness with such eagerness back then.

Ah, there was the tree! Finn slowed and circled the trunk cautiously. It was pretty big around, fairly tall, and she could see the opening with the honey comb in the hollow right up there, within easy climbing range. Plenty of bees around, too.

Finn hadn't made this little excursion without thinking it through; since the idea had come to her yesterday after hearing the others talk about the honey, and she had taken the time last night to do a little research into how to go about gathering honey. Vee's parents had kept very thorough directions about lots of things like gathering honey and other foods on the plateau. Finn had spent last night laboriously deciphering the fine writing, carefully taking the applicable journal to a corner so the others would not be able to see what she was reading. Consequently, Finn knew what she had to do.

She set aside the pack and began to gather wood to build a fire.

**********

"Storm moving in," Veronica noted as she handed George Challenger another stack of the now-sorted books to be shelved higher. "We should tie down the blinds and close the shutters before the wind gets any stronger."

Challenger's keen blue eyes took a quick look out of the tree house, noting the darkening sky and the weaving treetops. He nodded. "I agree. Let me just put these up." The scientist carefully eased his armload of books onto the highest of the three additional shelves he and Roxton had added to the tree house library over the last two evenings, refraining from opening the middle journal labeled with the intriguing name of a botanical study. This was not the appropriate time, but he made a mental note to himself to retrieve it and peruse it later.

Challenger hopped down off the ladder and moved towards the closest balcony to begin the process of rolling down the cane blinds that helped to protect the inside of the tree house's main rooms from inclement weather. "I'll see to these, my dear. You go close the shutters on the bedroom windows."

Veronica nodded. "All right," she agreed and ran lightly down the stairs to the lower level of the tree house. Securing the tree house to withstand a storm wasn't an unusual procedure, so it didn't take long until they had their home as weatherproofed as possible. Veronica returned to the upper level just as the elevator rose. She smiled a greeting at Roxton and Marguerite, both carrying full armloads of clean clothes. "Good timing."

"Yeah, it looks like it's going to be a nasty spell," Roxton agreed cheerfully, plopping his pile of garments down on the nearest level surface, which happened to be the sofa. He liked the strong wind and the fresh scents of jungle that were swirling in the air.

"We're probably going to be stuck in here for days," Marguerite grumbled with a sigh, dropping her own stack beside his. She hated storms that included thunder and lightning, and this one was shaping up to be a doozy, already lighting the sky with silent bolts as the clouds thickened overhead.

The others exchanged amused looks, and George offered lightly, "Yes, well, it will be the perfect time to finish organizing and cataloging the library. I could use your organizational skills, Marguerite."

The implied compliment, combined with a task she enjoyed, made her eyes brighten. Something to focus on was just what she needed while a storm was raging! "Sure, why not?" she agreed. She started to sort out the laundry for delivery to its owners as she asked, "Where's Finn? She wasn't down in the garden; I thought she would be up here with you two."

Veronica and Challenger exchanged startled looks. "Finn's not down in the garden? She hasn't come back up." Challenger, about to remount the ladder, stopped and turned instead toward the stairs. "Perhaps she's practicing entering the tree house clandestinely again. I'll check for her downstairs."

"No, she promised me she would stop doing that," Veronica shook her head, frowning, and the tall scientist turned back again. "Besides, I was just down there, and Finn's not in any of the lower rooms. Was the gardening done?" she asked Roxton and Marguerite.

Marguerite nodded silently, continuing to sort the laundry, though her blue-green eyes were thoughtful.

"Sure," Roxton replied, his own eyes sharpening in concern. "The garden was neat and clean, it looked good. She definitely did her chores. When was the last time you saw her?"

"A couple hours ago, I would say," Challenger replied after a moment. "She did the inside housework first, then went out right after lunch, I believe."

Their hostess nodded. "Yes, after lunch."

"She knows the rules," Roxton frowned, now looking toward the tied-down blinds and the storm beyond with concern instead of satisfaction. "She wouldn't leave without letting us know. Something must have happened. I'll go back down and have a look around, before it rains."

He left unspoken the concern that once the rain began they would be unable to follow any trail.

"Wait," Marguerite spoke up firmly. She left the pile of laundry and moved to the stacks of books still remaining to be sorted and re-shelved. "She was reading something yesterday . . ." Her keen eyes scanned the jumbled piles carefully. "There was a funny look in her eye . . ." her voice trailed off as she concentrated on finding the coloring and thickness of the book she had seen Finn surreptitiously and meticulously reading in the corner after dinner last night.

The others waited with various stages of patience. If Marguerite mentioned it, there was a good chance she really had noticed something they should wait to hear.

The slim brunette's arm shot out suddenly, and she plucked one book from amongst all the others. It was a journal, and the former spy gave the closed book in her hand a critical look, then opened it carefully, about a third of the way through. She flipped a couple pages ahead, a couple back - then looked up with a clearly triumphant gleam in her blue-gray eyes as she caught sight of a topic related to the conversations of the last couple days. She held up the book.

George Challenger took one all-encompassing look at the pages she held open, and the crease in his brow cleared. "The honey tree!" he realized. "She's gone to get honey for us."

Roxton took a look next, and gave his lady an admiring glance. To have pulled that one journal out of that jumble of books, remembering and finding it, and then judging so close to the right pages - "Good work, Parsifal," he teased approvingly, bringing a light blush to her fair skin.

Veronica scanned the pages, and nodded, relieved. "She can find that, I think. We've been near there," she tactfully did not mention the thorn bush, though she recalled how she and Roxton had been joking about those very bushes only this morning. "I'll go get her."

"No," Marguerite placed her hand on her friend's shoulder. "Don't. Finn's been very good about not breaking the safety rules, until now. Think about it, there must be a reason she sneaked away like this. Don't you see? Finn is trying to do this as a surprise. You have to let her finish on her own."

"But the storm -" Veronica worried.

"She's a big girl, and she's been looking out for herself for a long time. She'll get in out of the rain if she needs to," Marguerite retorted dryly. "Let her be."

Challenger nodded decisively. "Marguerite is right. Let the child get us the honey. We don't want to ruin her surprise. As long as we know where she is, there's no problem." He turned back to the shelves, though by the distracted way in which he walked past the ladder then had to turn back, the others could see that his mind was on Finn, not on his books.

Roxton hesitated, half turned to the elevator, but Marguerite sternly motioned to the laundry. He sighed and nodded. "All right. For now. But if she isn't back soon, I'm going to go get her," he warned his lady. "Surprise or no surprise."

"Fair enough," she agreed lightly, a small smile playing about her lips at his patent concern for his littlest sister.

Veronica returned to the books as well, though she cast a longing look over her shoulder at the silent elevator. These sudden storms could catch even the most experienced of plateau residents unprepared. She tried to envision the area around the honey tree. Was there shelter the younger blonde could duck into to wait out the storm? She couldn't think of any that Finn would know of or readily find.

She gathered an armful of books and passed them absently toward Challenger as he perched on a higher rung of the ladder. Honey. Not worth Finn facing the storm alone. What had she taught Finn about sheltering during storms? She couldn't remember ever dealing with the topic. Had there even been a bad storm since Finn had joined them?

Veronica gave Marguerite a side-long glance. Was she really as calm about Finn being out in this as she appeared? She remembered the prickly woman's initial words to her about their new housemate while they had been storing the iridium just after Veronica returned home, when she'd asked what Marguerite thought of Finn.

Marguerite had given her a quick, tight smile and replied dourly, "Challenger and Roxton will tell you Finn reminds them of another rough-around-the-edges female who invited herself along on a trip and ended up living here. I suspect they're pretty close to the truth - though I don't suppose this one will try to sell you to any chiefs."

The former jewel thief's assessment of Finn being similar to herself had surprised the jungle beauty until she stopped to really think about it. At first glance, Finn's behavior and personality had not seemed to be at all like the icy woman Marguerite had been initially. But after a little reflection, Veronica could see that the bluntness and survival instincts of the two were indeed somewhat similar. And there were moments when Finn's keen, watchful gaze and single-minded determination were so like Marguerite's that it gave Veronica a start. The newest member of the family also had a very familiar cynicism that was quite reminiscent of the tree house's resident skeptic's habitual outlook.

Veronica wasn't quite sure if her dark-haired friend liked Finn or disliked her. The older beauty hadn't been outright rude or nasty to the young woman now living with them. And she didn't seem to be jealous or envious of the energetic youngster's easy acceptance into the family by the others. But she also hadn't perceptibly warmed up to the newcomer. Marguerite simply continued to watch Finn with her utterly unreadable eyes.

Had the Great War's triple agent noticed that Finn was paying such close attention to their talk about the honey and taken note of the book Finn was reading because she didn't trust the girl? Or was it because she was fond enough of the girl now to care what she was up to?

Veronica sighed and wondered if she would ever really understand Marguerite.

Lightning flashed from outside and the accompanying thunder boomed.

All four adults looked toward the elevator.

Where was Finn?

**********

Finn had kept her movements steady and careful even as the storm threatened to break. She was not about to leave now, when she was so close to the prize! She had successfully smoked out the hollow tree, lulling the bees, and had broken away a couple chunks of the comb to get at a huge pool of the gooey sweet stuff in the inner comb. The bees in the now-revealed center were more active than the ones who had been outside the comb, and if rain cleared the smoke she was going to be in for some trouble. But she couldn't stop until she had finished scooping up the honey in the jars. "Slow and steady," she repeated to herself as the first raindrops began to fall.

There, that looked like enough to last her friends a while. With great care, the agile girl backed down the tree. As soon as her boots hit the ground, she knelt and screwed on the jar lids, tucking the fully-laden containers safely into the pack. She also tossed in the broken honey comb that she had dropped lightly down to the ground long minutes ago, then closed up the pack, slinging it over her shoulder as she rose to her feet.

Another look at the sky confirmed that she wasn't going to make it home before the storm's fury hit, and she looked around quickly for a place to shelter. "Think, Finn, think!" she scowled darkly at herself. "What did you see on the way here?"

Vee was always telling her to be on the lookout for a spot that would be a good safe place if she ran into trouble. But she had been thinking about her friends instead of paying attention. Vee would be disappointed.

Well, better closer to home than out here. Finn started off toward the tree house, finding the jungle floor slicked from the light rain that had begun to patter through the jungle canopy. If she hadn't been worried about falling and breaking the honey jars, she would have enjoyed the challenge of staying on her feet as she loped along. Her blue eyes continually scanned the vegetation around her as the rain began to fall harder.

What had Roxton said about shelter? First choice, a village you know. Second choice, a village you don't know, with caution. If there's not a village within range, then remember the locations of the various caves that spattered the plateau within range of the tree house. A hollow tree was fourth choice . . . a deadfall closely packed that could have leaves woven into the branches to make a tighter roof to take shelter under came after that. As a last resort, anything that provided partial shelter should be utilized, whether it was a giant fern, a rocky outcropping or the dead body of a dinosaur.

Aha! Finn abruptly changed direction and angled away from the route directly back to the tree house. This should work. She was going to have a lot of explaining to do when the storm was over, since they would surely notice her absence now. But it wasn't safe to run through the jungle in this bad a storm with her crossbow at her hip. She would be like a lightning rod!

**********

"No, I'll go," John Roxton said firmly as Veronica moved toward the elevator. "I had a talk with her just last week about finding shelter in a storm. I know what to look for."

Veronica shook her head. "I know the plateau better, John."

He grinned. "Not this close by, not anymore. You have to admit that I know it every bit as well as you do, after three bloody years here." He settled his hat on his head, shouldering his pack and his rifle. "I'll find her, don't worry, and once the storm is past, I'll bring her home."

Marguerite came from her room, carrying an extra blanket. "You may need this, John, if she's as soaked as you're going to be," she said with mild sarcasm. He stood still patiently while she went around behind him and stuffed it into his pack, then refastened the latches as she added, "Though if George's new weather proofing goop doesn't work this time, it won't do either of you any good."

Challenger's brows went down. "It works this time," he insisted.

"It better," she retorted, "Or John and Finn will both end up sick!"

Roxton grinned down at her and kissed her forehead. "Thanks for the concern, Marguerite. We'll be fine. I'm sure George's -er- goop - will do the job quite well," he added with a twinkling wink over her head to the scientist.

George Challenger relaxed and winked back. "Nice to know SOMEONE has faith in me!" he grumbled good-naturedly.

"I'll have some nice soup on the stove when you get back, to warm you both up," Veronica promised, still not happy about letting their hunter go instead of searching for the missing girl herself.

"That would be great, Veronica. Thanks. Maybe you could teach Marguerite how to make it," he grinned, ducking his lady's indignant swat and jumping deftly into the elevator. He blew the annoyed brunette a kiss as the elevator dropped out of sight.

"Don't think you're getting away with that, John Richard Roxton!" she called after him sternly.

Veronica and Challenger exchanged grins.

Marguerite turned away from the now-empty elevator shaft, and quirked a fine brow at them. "Well, what are we standing around for? George, they'll need hot water for baths when they get back, so we should fire up the water heater." She shooed the scientist off towards the lower level to stoke a fire beneath the water heater he had devised for their shower. "Veronica, come on. We should get started on that soup right away, in case I ruin the first batch and you have to start over," she sighed, ruefully admitting her own ineptitude in the kitchen.

Veronica linked her arm through her friend's and soothed, "Maybe this time it will go well, Marguerite. You've been doing better."

The brunette perked up hopefully. "Really?"

With a straight face the blonde replied, "No, but I wanted to encourage you." She was prepared to dodge a blow, in case this was the wrong time to tease the feisty European lady. One could never be entirely sure when dealing with dynamite . . .

Marguerite's gray-green eyes widened indignantly, and for a moment Veronica thought she was in for a fight, but then the older woman burst out laughing. "Well, we'll just see who has the last laugh, Veronica Layton! I'll get it right tonight if it kills me - or better yet, YOU!"

**********

The tree house was filled with the aroma of Veronica's Plateau Chowder by the time the elevator rose again. Challenger, who had been slowly alphabetizing the now-shelved categorized books, turned eagerly. Veronica stepped expectantly from the kitchen where she had been stirring the chowder for the one hundred sixteenth time to be sure it didn't sear to the bottom of the pot. Marguerite looked up from the mending she had decided to handle while conveniently seated on the sofa facing the elevator.

All three expectant faces paled in sudden dread as only John Roxton stepped off the elevator. He was drenched, rain water still dripping off his sagging hat, clearly thoroughly chilled . . . and alone.

But he hastily reassured them. "She's coming, don't worry! I found her without any trouble, but she was doing fine on her own," he explained with obvious pleasure. "So I decided to just keep an eye on her, since she was safe and mostly dry. She'd made herself a shelter under a deadfall, pretty nicely done, too. I stayed near enough to watch her and make sure she was doing okay. It was her first plateau storm, and they can be scary. But our girl Finn handled it nicely; she sat it out as calmly as you please!" he announced grandly, with a broad smile.

John shrugged off his pack, handing it to Veronica, and hung his hat on its peg. "I stayed nearby, but made sure she didn't see me. I didn't want to leave her alone until I was sure the storm had passed. As soon as the rain started to let up and she made preparations to move out, I hit the trail. She should be only a couple minutes behind me." He grinned at the mingled looks of relief and confusion on their faces.

"John, why didn't you join her under her shelter?!" Marguerite scolded, setting aside the mending and rising to her feet. "You're soaked! What were you thinking?!"

"Never mind that." He waved off her concern with a look of tender understanding that made her blush as she realized how obvious her feelings must be to the others. Knowing she would not like the others to notice her discomfort, he went on quickly, "I got to thinking that it wouldn't be a bad thing to let her surprise us, like you suggested earlier, Marguerite. She was fine, so there was no need to let her know I had come looking for her, or that we knew what she was up to. I'll go change, and we won't say anything about me being out there." His hazel-green eyes gleamed with a conspiratory sparkle as he met each of their gazes. "We can have as much fun letting her surprise us as she's going to have giving us the honey!"

Veronica nodded, her own face lighting up as she understood. "Great idea! Get going, Roxton, I'll mop up after you." She held his dripping pack out away from herself with one hand, carrying it toward the storage room where she kept the mops and maintenance tools.

"I'll take your clothes while you're drying off, John, and put them on the back balcony to dry, where Finn won't see them." Challenger fell into the game willingly, picturing Finn's bright face when she "succeeded" in surprising them with her gift.

Marguerite sighed, letting the handsome dark-haired man know she wasn't thrilled with him for not having taken better shelter, but offered, "I'll get you some towels, John." She briefly considered offering to help towel dry his dripping hair - she did so love the feel of his soft brown hair, and adored the little curls that became evident when he had let it go too long between trims, like now. But Finn could be back any time, so she had best not distract either John or herself. John would just have to towel his hair dry by himself tonight.

She sighed as she grabbed a pair of towels from Veronica's mother's linen cupboard, regretting the lost opportunity. Then she grinned to herself as she took the promised towels to John's room. He liked her hands in his hair as much as she enjoyed the sensation of his gentle hands in her own long tresses. The poor man didn't know what he was missing by planning this conspiracy for Finn's benefit!

By the time the elevator brought Finn up to the tree house, there was no sign of the dripping trail the tall hunter had left across the great room and down the steps, and his pack and clothes were out of sight. Challenger was back at the books, Marguerite at the sewing, Veronica once again stirring the chowder in the kitchen, and Roxton was "cleaning" - actually, drying - his rifle at the fireside.

"Hey, you finally made it!" Marguerite, the master of deception, handled the initial greeting with a mildly critical look at Finn. "I told the others you were smart enough to find cover!" Over her shoulder she called, "She's back, Veronica." Then, facing Finn again, she added sternly to the younger blonde, "You had Veronica and the others a bit worried. You're not supposed to go off on your own without letting someone know."

As Veronica came from the kitchen Finn gave her a penitent look. "I know; I'm sorry, Vee. I didn't mean to be gone so long. I won't do it again."

Veronica frowned imperiously. "You'd better not," she intoned as sternly as Marguerite had, then grinned, ruining the whole effect and relieving Finn. "We made some chowder for dinner, figuring you would be totally chilled after being caught out in a storm like that. Roxton told us he had talked to you last week about how to find shelter. You look pretty dry, so I guess you remembered something that worked?"

Finn nodded enthusiastically, glancing over at the British Lord. He met her eyes with an interested quirk of his brow. "I used that thing you told me about finding a deadfall and weaving some leaves into the upper branches to form a more watertight roof. It worked great, Big Guy!"

He nodded his approval. "Good work, Finn," he praised lightly, withdrawing the rod from the rifle barrel and changing to a cleaner patch of cloth to insert next. He used the rod to point at Finn for a moment and added in rebuke, "But next time, be sure to let one of us know before you go haring off across the plateau. You made the ladies here worry." He gave Veronica and Marguerite a laughing look before ramming the patch of cloth back into the barrel again with the rod.

Challenger added his two cents worth from the ladder by the shelves. "Yes, you know how women worry," he quipped. "Even though they knew you could look after yourself."

Marguerite snickered. "As if you two weren't concerned, too, when the storm hit before Finn made it home!" To Finn she grinned, "They wanted to go right out and look for you!" Oh, how smoothly she used the truth without telling the truth! Veronica almost laughed outright.

Fortunately Challenger retorted, "And who was it who ordered me to fire up the water heater so Finn could have a nice warm shower as soon as she got home? You WERE worried about her, admit it!"

"Me? Worried about HER? You should know by now that I don't worry about anyone but myself," the brunette huffed with a toss of her head, flouncing up off her seat. She gave Finn a look that dared the younger lady to contradict her, and drawled impatiently, "Well, what are you standing there for? Go have your warm shower so we can eat! I'm starving!"

Finn's eyes sparkled with amusement as she followed the light banter. She chuckled, and nodded. "Right away, Marguerite," she promised, and took the stairs down to her room with a bounce in her step, humming happily.

The older four looked at one another and exchanged self-satisfied grins. They had let Finn know they had cared enough to worry and that they were pleased with her growing survival skills, all without a hint that they had guessed her surprise. "Great idea, Roxton," George's blue eyes crinkled as he smiled broadly. "This is working out perfectly! Nicely done, Marguerite and Veronica!"

"You didn't do so badly yourself, old man," Marguerite replied, lips curving upward too. "You may have a future as a conspirator!"

Veronica laughed. "Oh no, one professional conspirator is enough for this tree house!" she teased the other woman. "Come on, let's set the table."

Marguerite joined her in the chore without argument, causing Roxton to raise a brow in question to Challenger. His temperamental lady was certainly in a mellow mood tonight!

Later, after dinner was over and the three women had taken themselves off to bed while the two men finished the clean up, John asked the older man what had put Marguerite in such a good humor. "I was sure the worry over Finn would have her all wound up," he confessed wryly.

Challenger shrugged. "Oh, I believe it was the way she and Veronica were joking with each other while they were preparing the dinner. It's a sign of how deep their friendship has grown, don't you think? I quite enjoyed the roasting Veronica gave your lady about her cooking - I could hardly believe it was our Marguerite, just laughing at all of Veronica's teasing instead of throwing something at her head! Especially after she had to toss out that first batch of soup, and Veronica ended up making the chowder instead!" he chortled, shaking his head in bemusement at the mysteries of women.

John Roxton chuckled. "Ah, so it was the teasing? Yes, if you can get Marguerite laughing it helps," he acknowledged. "It pulls her out from behind those defenses of hers."

"That is does," the older man scratched his head thoughtfully. "I wonder what it is about humor that seems to bring out the best in all of us." Lost in the deliberations about this new conundrum, brow puckered as he considered cause and effect, he wandered off to his own room for the night.

Roxton chuckled to himself and did one last round of the tree house to check on security.

Neither man realized that Finn had overheard the last of their conversation as she came upstairs for another drink of water before going to sleep. She tilted her head thoughtfully, pondering what they'd said.

Veronica's teasing had gotten past Marguerite's defenses?

Then all Finn had to do was tease Marguerite, get her to laugh, and maybe she could get past those walls and become the dark beauty's friend, too!

Of course, the key had to be the type of teasing. She wished she had heard the beginning of the men's conversation so she knew what Veronica had teased the other woman about so successfully. Tonight Marguerite had been almost relaxed with everyone, even Finn. The future-born girl liked the feeling she'd had when Marguerite had noticed her bowl was empty and refilled it with a smile that actually matched the ones she had been giving the others. And it had been joking around with Veronica that gifted Finn with the enjoyable sense of acceptance from Marguerite?

Hmmm, humor. Marguerite had been unresponsive to Finn's past tentative humor about chores, and about the older woman's penchant for jewels. She had tried all sorts of topics as part of light bantering conversations before, and none had been effective in lowering any of the defensive walls Marguerite maintained so effortlessly.

So what had Veronica teased Marguerite about? What was left that Finn hadn't already tried?

Finn finished her glass of water and headed back down the stairs to her room. She paused on the last curve of the stairwell as she heard whispering voices, and peeked around the corner curiously. Why would anyone be whispering in the hall?

John Roxton was at the doorway to Marguerite's bedroom. Marguerite, clad in a flowing snowy white nightgown, hair unbound and falling free about her slim shoulders, was leaning back on the door jamb smiling up at him. He held one of her hands in his as he stood close to her, his head bowed near hers as they talked in soft, low tones. The handsome man raised her hand to his lips and kissed it gallantly. Finn's brow creased as she watched the two of them.

Then her forehead cleared as she saw Marguerite's lips form words that Finn had no trouble interpreting despite the fact that she was too far away to actually hear a syllable. "I love you," the brunette was telling the tall hunter, her eyes a soft sapphire blue in the muted light that shone from her room. Finn couldn't see Roxton's lips, but by the tender adoring delight in Marguerite's face before he kissed her, she was sure the handsome and gallant man had told the mysterious Miss Krux that he loved her, too.

Well!

Marguerite really did love Roxton after all! In spite of the way she alternately ignored him, taunted him, flirted with him, and fought with him, the truth was that she loved him, and Lord John knew it!

Now why hadn't they told everyone else? Why wasn't Roxton shouting it from the treetops? Why weren't they behaving all lovey-dovey in front of the others? And when had it happened? The powerful hunter hadn't seem surprised by her words, or by her response to his kisses, so Marguerite must have expressed her love for him before now. How had this escaped the notice of the observant Veronica and the wise Challenger?

Finn's eyes suddenly lit with glee. This was it! THIS was what she could tease Marguerite about so that they could be friends! How perfect was this? Surely something this wonderful would make the brunette laugh, causing those walls between them crumble - Finn had discovered a secret that would bring her the coveted friendship with Marguerite!

Finn could barely contain herself as Roxton and Marguerite finished kissing good night and separated, he to saunter jauntily down the hall to his own room and she to float dreamily to her bed.

As soon as they were both safely out of sight in their bedrooms, Finn hopped off the steps and did a little dance of anticipation. Then she froze, startled as Roxton suddenly walked back out into the hall. She gave a little yelp of alarm, stopping in her tracks, caught completely off guard.

He took one look at the guilty flush on her cheeks, glanced sharply at Marguerite's doorway, and then his usually-benign green eyes narrowed and darkened, and his brows lowered. Two crisp steps forward enabled him to grasp her right arm tightly. He shook a stern finger in front of her face, and hissed forcefully, "Finn, I don't know what you saw, or thought you saw, but you will not say a word! Not a single word! Do you understand me?!"

Finn gulped, nodding quickly. She had never seen the hunter look quite so dangerous! "Got it. Mum's the word," she agreed, and ran for her room without looking back as soon as he released her.

Lord Roxton's keen eyes followed her as he bit his lip in consternation. He glanced back to his lady's doorway and shuddered at the thought of the probable explosion if her admission of love for him was made public before she was ready to deal with it. Only the dire threat of imminent death in that cave had finally prompted her to admit it even to the man she loved! He had been proceeding with caution, easing into more public displays of affection with her and giving her the opportunity to get used to this new stage in their relationship.

Marguerite hadn't said so, but he understood that she expected her love for Roxton to be considered a weakness that could and would be used against her. Nothing in her past had prepared her to accept that loving him was a strength, not a vulnerability. The only way he knew to reassure her about this was to gradually accustom her to showing their love to the others, and for her to realize that their friends would not mock her or try to manipulate her through this new relationship she was discovering.

Roxton hadn't deemed it necessary to ask for Veronica or Challenger's discretion as he and Marguerite were more openly affectionate with one another. He trusted their old friends to refrain from making any comments that would drive his skittish lady back into her shell. They knew enough about her to understand why the blossoming relationship in their midst should be nurtured without commentary.

But Finn -! Thank goodness he'd realized Finn had seen them tonight! The girl didn't know anywhere near enough about Marguerite's past to understand how fragile his lady's emotional security was with regard to loving him. But he had been gruff enough with Finn that it should be all right.

Finn had never directly disobeyed an instruction. She wouldn't say anything to Marguerite.

John quietly blew out his breath, forcing himself to relax again, and proceeded on his way upstairs to fetch the gun patch he had realized he'd forgotten to put away earlier. He didn't like to leave anything unfinished. Good thing he had forgotten it after all, though, or he wouldn't have caught Finn out here. He might have ended up with a disaster on his hands!

Marguerite had undoubtedly been the world's best triple agent, fully capable of doing whatever it had taken to survive. But living most of her life until now with the knowledge that any personal weakness probably meant death - and emotional attachments in her world had definitely been points of weakness and vulnerability - had not allowed the beautiful woman the luxury of learning to expose her feelings to others. She needed time to find out for herself that loving John openly would not portend danger to either herself or him.

Challenger and Veronica understood this, after living with her and learning more about her little by little. Even Ned had stopped expecting open answers to questions about the wily and "mysterious" Miss Krux, and had settled for reading between the lines, as it were, of Marguerite's words and outward attitudes.

But young Finn hadn't seen the slow changes in Marguerite over these last years as she had begun to learn about being part of a family. Finn didn't know how far Marguerite had come in opening up to the others already, or that it would only take one suspect phrase or look, and the ex-spy would retreat into her defensive world. When she shut them out like that, it might be weeks till she relaxed again . . . or longer, Roxton thought with a shudder at the thought.

No, far better that he scare Finn by being too tough on her than that she should incautiously say something at the wrong moment. Things were going too well to risk damaging his lady's slowly-growing comfort with sharing her heart.

Lord Roxton returned to his bedroom, blissfully unaware of the rising storm brewing just down the hall from his chamber.

Finn, sprawled on her bed in her dark room, slowly relaxed as her heart stopped pounding. Wow! The Big Guy was really serious about her not saying anything to Marguerite about this! Weird! Okay, so she couldn't say anything. This kind of spoiled her plans to tease -

No, wait! She could still tease Marguerite! Roxton had commanded her not to SAY anything to Marguerite. He hadn't said anything about NON-verbal teasing!

Hmmm, she would have to think on this a bit. Finn had always been good at strategy. She just needed to come up with a viable plan. And this was the best time of day to think up good ideas. Sure enough, she had already created half a dozen alternate ways to tease the brunette before she began to yawn.

By the time she actually fell asleep, Finn had decided on a method of teasing Marguerite that would clearly express her desire to be closer friends, but without speaking a single word, so she wouldn't be disobeying Roxton. This was going to be fun!

**********

The surprised pleasure of her new family when she ever-so-casually presented the honey at the breakfast table delighted Finn no end. Of course, they all pretended to scold her a bit about having endangered herself out in storm just to provide a supply of honey for the tree house. But with her newfound awareness of how teasing could express friendship, Finn just grinned and accepted it.

Everyone made such a production out of enjoying the golden liquid that Finn was glowing by the time breakfast was over. Even Marguerite, who for some inexplicable reason had decided on having tea this morning and not coffee, used some honey in her tea and thanked Finn for her thoughtfulness.

Having laid out the tasks for the morning as they ate, the group split up to take care of the chores while the day's heat was at a minimum. They were almost out of firewood, so Roxton's task was to set about cutting more logs to drag to the tree house, to be split into cords of wood over the following days. Marguerite was designated to go along with the lanky Lord today to stand guard for him as he worked - and to dig up some plant specimens Challenger needed in order to replenish their medicinal stocks. The other two women were to work together here at the tree house to do the monthly maintenance the scientist had scheduled for the elevator to keep it in smooth running condition, and to check the electric fence for any necessary repairs.

The scientist was planning some more tests on how to coax additional power from his windmill, for which he required several buckets of a resinous sap from a type of tree that was to be found half a day's hike toward the Zanga village. By the time he had gathered the quantity he anticipated needing, it would be late afternoon, so he declared that he would continue on to stay the night with the Zanga. With luck, he told the others with obvious anticipation, he would be able to spend the evening with the tribal healer. He hoped to ask about the somewhat puzzling medicinal qualities of a flower the Layton's had chronicled in the botanical study journal he'd noticed yesterday and perused last night before going to sleep.

"I'm almost positive that the rose-like flower described by your parents, Veronica, is the same one Arthur successfully cultivated on the lower west balcony. If I'm correct, then the Summerlee Rose - the one with the royal purple petals tinged by a royal blue rim and the glossiest, most verdant leaves I've ever seen - just might have properties that will prove to have therapeutic olfactory benefits," he enthused as he brought the journal to the table to add to his provisions.

Roxton looked at him blankly, then quirked a brow at the ladies. Veronica and Finn both shrugged and looked in turn at the dark-haired woman who so often assisted George in the lab. Marguerite sighed. "He means the scent of the flowers may act as some kind of medicine."

"Yes, that's what I said," George agreed absently, packing the Layton's botanical study journal into his knapsack to show diagrams to the healer. "Although it's much more than that . . ."

Finn startled them all by piping up, "Oh, you're talking about aroma therapy. Yeah, they're still mucking with ways of making that work in my time."

Challenger's head snapped up, his blue eyes lighting with interest. "People are healed through this . . . aroma therapy . . . in the future?" he asked eagerly.

Finn's young brow wrinkled. "Well, not exactly healed, though I do remember hearing commercials that SAID you could be healed by different scented candles and potpourri. Mostly they help people's moods. You know, different smells are supposed to make you feel mellower or happier or whatever."

"Candles and potpourri?" Challenger repeated, intrigued. "Indeed? Theories have abounded for centuries about the benefits of burning candles medicinally. You must tell me more about this, Finn. But in this case, according to the journals, the scent of the flower not only pleases the senses so that the psyche is improved, it actually HEALS internal infirmities! If the Zanga healer can confirm this, we may be able to use our Summerlee Roses for all manner of - " He broke off, scolding himself brusquely, "I really must be on my way, or I'll never have time to consult with the healer!"

The younger four exchanged grins as he plopped his hat onto his still-reddish hair and shrugged on the backpack with a purposeful air. "I'll see you all tomorrow - and Finn, don't forget you promised me you would work more on your writing!" he reminded the youngest with a fond smile and a piercing look that elicited a nod from Finn, before picking up his rifle and heading for the elevator.

"We'll ride down with you, George," Roxton grabbed his own hat and pack, and nodded to Marguerite. "Let's go. Veronica, we'll meet back here for lunch?"

"Lunch?!" Marguerite exclaimed in obvious displeasure as she snatched up her own rifle and hat, hurrying to catch up with the longer legged strides of the two men. "We're going to be out in this heat that long? I'll be done with the plants much sooner than that, John."

Veronica and Finn exchanged grins as they listened to Marguerite trying to negotiate a quicker trip, her coaxing tone clearly audible all the way down to the ground. "Betcha they're back before mid morning," Finn snickered. "He's putty in her hands when she talks to him like that."

"Betcha they're not," Veronica retorted, knowing Roxton wouldn't quit till he had a good stack of lumber gathered to haul back, no matter what ploys his lady tried. Chores were one thing he didn't let Marguerite wriggle out of - unless dire danger intervened with their completion.

"What will you bet?" Laughing, the younger girl added, "Put your money where your mouth is!"

Veronica's brow furrowed. "Money?" she repeated with a curled lip. "You know I don't have any money." After three years of listening to Marguerite harp about money, Veronica heartily despised this method of measuring wealth that was used everywhere beyond the plateau.

Finn rolled her eyes. "I didn't mean for real, Vee!" she sighed. "Don't take everything so - literally!"

She ignored the way her hostess's lips twitched at her careful and triumphant use of one of Challenger's vocabulary-of-the-week words, and continued, "I just meant, what are you willing to give me when I win and you lose?"

Veronica did laugh at that. "More like what will you give ME when YOU lose, you mean," she teased.

"Oh, so you're going to be like that, are you? Well, when they get back by mid morning, you have to do my scrubbing the vegetables chore for two weeks," Finn crowed happily.

"And I say, when they get back LATE for lunch because Roxton wouldn't leave until he was satisfied that he had enough to last a couple more weeks, you . . ." Veronica paused dramatically, then declared triumphantly, "You will have to milk the goat for two weeks!" She laughed at Finn's look of dismay. The goat was infamous for especially difficult behavior when daily milking time came around. "Are you so sure you want to bet against Lord Roxton?"

Finn hesitated briefly, then remembered that betting against the handsome Lord meant she was betting FOR the creatively persuasive Marguerite. Smugly, she stood firm. "You're on, Veronica Layton."

**********

Reaching the top of the bank at the edge of the pond as she climbed gracefully out after a refreshing swim, Veronica suddenly stopped, aware that something was wrong. She intuitively caught her breath. Oddly, she was overcome by a strange sense of dread, as if something disastrous was about to take place. In fact, the ominous foreboding seemed to be affecting the entire plateau! Veronica moved forward cautiously, head cocked as she listened, her blue eyes scanning quickly and sharply.

Absolute silence reigned. No screech of birds, no monkey chatter, no dinosaur roars, no trickle of water, not even the gentlest whisper of wind. The only sound was the muffled crunch of her own footsteps. In the lush, vivid jungle, the quiet was anomalous and sent an eerie chill racing down her spine. A sudden, loud crack - so intense she could feel it in her bones - reverberated across the plateau. She turned, instinctively knowing where the sound had originated. Terror grabbed her stomach as she muttered, "the tree-house", and took off in a dead run.

What could be happening?! Veronica reviewed the day in her mind as she pounded down the path toward the tree house.

This had been such a perfect day, no sign of any kind of trouble at all! Finn had volunteered to see to the maintenance work on the elevator herself, and it hadn't taken long for Veronica to finish with the electric fence repairs. She had asked Finn if she wanted help, but Finn had assured her everything was well in hand. So Veronica had enjoyed an hour of happy work in her beloved garden. Finn had brought lunch out to her, chagrinned to have to admit that Veronica had been right and had won their bet. Roxton and Marguerite hadn't been back before lunch - much to Finn's disgust and Veronica's triumph as Finn agreed to do the milking for the next couple weeks.

Finn had returned to the tree house, and Veronica had been able to produce another entire section of neatly turned ground before she had stopped for her swim when she knew the sun's midday heat was too much to continue working. She hadn't worried about leaving Finn alone at the tree house. Finn was perfectly capable of - Too late, Veronica pulled her attention to the path ahead of her.

She barreled into Roxton as he came charging down an intersecting trail, and they were both knocked off their feet by the force of their collision. "What the - When did you get back?" Veronica gasped, pushing herself off the ground and getting back to her feet, instinctively checking her now-aching ribs.

Roxton grabbed for his hat, which had flown off during impact with his dynamic blonde-haired friend, and scrambled to his feet. "We didn't - I mean, I sent Marguerite ahead to get some tools after the sled runner broke -" his eyes, darkened to hazel by anxiety, slid past her once he'd ascertained that she wasn't badly hurt by his larger bulk slamming into her and sending her to the ground, and looked toward the tree house again. "That noise -?"

She shook her head, and replied, "Whatever it was, it wasn't good, Roxton!"

As one, they turned and began to run again, side by side this time.

A little closer, and they slowed slightly . . . they both knew better than to rush into possible danger without knowing what they were facing. Still moving swiftly, each hunter instinctively slipped into stalking mode, minimizing the noise of their approach to their lofty home.

This precaution wasn't necessary. Nothing would have heard their approach, since Marguerite was apparently shouting at the top of her lungs in a variety of languages, clearly audible even before the tree house was in view. Roxton and Veronica exchanged startled looks as they recognized the sound of her voice, and continued on. She sounded too mad to be hurt, at any rate . . .

When they reached the edge of the jungle, they both stopped and stared in astonishment at the sight before them.

The tree house elevator lay splintered to pieces at the foot of the massive tree, along with the now-shattered giant counterweights that had operated it. Its multi-stranded ropes were jumbled amidst the broken pieces of bamboo and wood that had formed the cage and mechanism serving as the means of ascending and descending from their home until now. What could have caused it to break loose so suddenly and with such a resounding crash that it had brought both Roxton and Veronica running?!

Marguerite - perfectly uninjured, to judge by the fluid way she was intently pacing back and forth beneath the tree - was roused to a fury her friends had never seen her display before. And there was an odd shimmer to the air around her, as if heat waves, or waves of sheer energy, were emanating from the slender brunette. Her voice was thick with the strength of her emotional turmoil as she ground out words they couldn't understand, and though her volume had decreased somewhat, her blue-green eyes were a stormy gray that seemed to flash with almost literal fire.

Lord Roxton found himself suddenly in the throes of some kind of vision centered on a strangely similar Marguerite. This other Marguerite was clad in a close-fitting red top that bared her midriff, with a matching skirt that was equally revealing, and she was surrounded by almost identical shimmering air waves to the ones he had just witnessed around her. Her long dark hair was blowing back behind her, as if she was facing into a fierce wind. Her fey eyes were aglow as she focused on something ahead of her, and . . . she was _singing, _or no_, chanting?_ strange haunting words - and walking through FLAMES that flared higher than herself. Yet she was untouched by the vicious power of a heat that Roxton could have sworn he had actually felt!

What the devil?! It seemed so real - but it couldn't be!

He shook his head to clear it, and once again he was looking at his Marguerite, wearing her usual plateau jodhpurs and silk blouse, no fire in sight - unless he counted the vivid flashes in her furious eyes as being genuine flames. John shifted uncomfortably, wondering what had just happened to him.

The hunter looked over at the blonde jungle woman. Had she noticed his momentary distraction with the - vision, for lack of a better word? No, she was staring, jaw dropped, at the fallen elevator in stunned disbelief. "Roxton - look at the cords - they've been cut!"

He followed her pointing finger, and blinked. She was right; he could see it, too, there on a strand that was bunched among what must have been the roof of the lift's cage. The triple-bound ropes had been severed with a clean stroke of a sharp blade! The elevator had been deliberately dashed to the ground!

Almost simultaneously, Roxton and Veronica realized it could only have been done from above, and they looked up toward the tree house, now almost inaccessible from the jungle floor. "FINN!" Veronica shouted in sudden fear. Where was the youngest member of the tree house family?!

Marguerite reacted to hearing the younger blonde's name by looking upwards as well, but with a glower that fairly sizzled, and the air around her shimmered even more as her eyes narrowed. Her voice changed a bit, and Roxton was startled to realize she was now beginning to singsong the same kinds of sounds he had just heard in his brief vision - had it been an actual memory, then, rather than some kind of mystical revelation? A breeze seemed to rise around her, and her dark curls began to lift off her shoulders. She raised one arm gracefully toward the balconies above . . .

Finn, who had poked her head out over the higher balcony rail in response to Veronica's call, gave a yelp of alarm and ducked back again, but yelled, "She's trying to kill me!"

One look at Marguerite, and Veronica's snort of disbelief was cut off abruptly. Her blue eyes widened. She clutched at Roxton's arm. "What's going on?"

Druids. High Priestess. The words Marguerite had used when she had told him of her dream while they were trapped in that burial cave not long ago flooded back into his mind. More flashes of images joined the ones from his initial vision - memory - or whatever it had been! Men in dark robes . . . he and Malone, running with Marguerite from head hunters . . . chased by something not quite visible - SHOOTING at and actually KILLING each other?! Battling a whole bloody ARMY of Roxton, Malone and Marguerite lookalikes! This couldn't have really happened! It was impossible!

Roxton shook his head again, sharply, to clear away the incredible thoughts. "Can you get up into the tree house and find out what happened?" he asked grimly, keeping his focus on Marguerite, from whom a light now seemed to be generating, along with the shimmering-air effect.

"Yeah, I can get up," Veronica nodded, staring at the heiress in confusion.

"Go, then. I'll look after Marguerite." The tall British nobleman gave her a push to start her moving, then took his first tentative steps toward the beautiful brunette.

Veronica nodded slowly, and carefully skirted the now-expanding sphere of the shining aura growing around her friend. On the other side of the tree trunk there was a way to climb up, the original means of mounting to the tree house built by her parents, before her mother had conceived Veronica and her father had created the elevator to make access safer for his wife. It had been a fun to see how fast Veronica could climb up the original route when she was a child - and to do so without getting caught by her disapproving parents, who had preferred her to use the reliable lift instead of the more dangerous method. She was going to have to teach it to the others until they could replace the elevator, she thought irrelevantly as she made her way around to the back side of the tree and started to climb, nimbly finding the almost-totally overgrown foot and hand holds by instinct more than by sight.

Lord John Roxton eased closer to his lady, squinting a bit as the light grew steadily brighter. He had a feeling that if he couldn't break her focus, Finn was going to be in serious trouble. "Marguerite," he said firmly.

No response. Marguerite continued to intone the oddly melodic words, green-gray stormy eyes fastened on the tree house above, the breeze now a wind that lifted her hair completely off her shoulders and back, as if power were building up in the aura surrounding her.

But there was still not even a whisper of a breeze outside that glow.

He moved closer, and spoke louder. "Marguerite!" When she still didn't respond, he reached out to touch the light, which wavered right before him now. Hot! He pulled his hand back sharply with a hiss of pain at the heat that scorched it. "Marguerite!" he shouted as he rubbed his singed fingers.

It was as if there was a literal wall between them that he could not penetrate. She didn't seem to hear him at all. But then he noticed that though her arm was poised in midair as if about to direct a bolt of that odd energy at the tree house above her, nothing was happening. The singsong continued, but otherwise she had frozen in position. Perhaps she had heard him after all!

He braced himself for another try at getting through the hot light again, deciding to attempt going into it at an angle, quickly, to minimize contact with . . . whatever it was. He took off his hat and tossed it toward the plank table that held George's latest collection of rocks and bugs - then stiffened.

There, directly opposite him on the other side of his glowing lady, freshly carved with perfect clarity into the side of the massive trunk of the tree that held the tree house, was the three foot high and two foot wide outline of a heart. And in its center were the words "Marguerite luvs Roxton".

Only one person spelled as poorly as that. Finn!

Roxton groaned as everything fell into place. He winced, and his hazel eyes returned to his lady with sudden understanding. She had seen that carving, and had instantly taken it as fulfillment of her deepest fear, believing it was meant to mock her! This was the source of her anger . . . and probably also the source of the "wall" that was separating her from him. She had always used walls to protect herself, but this time she was building a "real" wall, and preparing to retaliate against the one who had made the mistake of daring to publicly ridicule her for this, her strongest and most private emotion, by exposing her heart to everyone's view.

"Marguerite! It's okay!" he shouted. "Marguerite!"

She still showed no sign of being aware of him – but she remained still, other than the slight movement of her lips as the singsong chant continued. What the devil could he do to get through to her?!

"Good heavens!"

The exclamation made him spin, pulling his Webleys and dropping into a crouch. But it was only George Challenger, red-faced and disheveled, chest heaving from running with his full pack. His keen blue eyes were staring in shock at the smashed elevator. Even as Roxton recognized him and relaxed, straightening up and re-holstering his guns, he saw the scientist's gaze swing to Marguerite and the phenomenon surrounding her.

"George, what are you doing back?" Roxton asked, for once in complete accord with Challenger's instant fascination with a new scientific anomaly. The hunter would have given his hat at that moment, to know what that strange aura was that kept him from reaching the slender firebrand who owned his heart.

Challenger didn't look away from Marguerite, though he did manage to say, "I experienced the strangest sense of foreboding, and the entire jungle seemed to go silent . . . and then I heard the most ominous noise. I just KNEW it was coming from here! Thank goodness that I wasn't further away! I had decided to return here instead of continuing to the Zanga village after I found the resin I needed much closer than I had anticipated . . ." his voice trailed away, and he took several steps closer to the now-nearly blinding light that surrounded Marguerite. "Fascinating! What on earth is it?"

"I don't know," Roxton replied irritably. "And I don't care. No, George, don't touch tha-" He broke off as he saw that his warning was too late.

The lanky scientist jerked his extended hand back from contact with the light, giving a startled yelp of pain and staring at his reddening fingertips, blinking owlishly. "How intriguing!" he murmured. "It's actually quite hot!"

The younger man sighed. "Yes, George."

"Do you have any idea what started this?" he asked, finally giving Roxton his undivided attention.

With a grimace, Roxton pointed at the graffiti Finn had carved into the tree trunk.

Challenger's brows went up, and he gave a silent whistle. "Oh my," he said faintly.

"Yeah," Marguerite's beau grunted, folding his arms across his chest grimly and squinting into the light that was becoming ice blue around her. "I'm sure that's what started this. But that's not the immediate problem, George. I'm not certain she can hear me in there. And I have a feeling the power that's been building up is going to go right where she's pointing." He looked up, gaze following the direction of Marguerite's still upraised arm.

Challenger did the same, and gulped as he realized she was gesturing toward the tree house. He did a quick mental calculation. "Oh, that's not good, not good at all. If I'm right about the power, based on the temperature I just experienced from that brief contact with the -um - whatever it is . . . a release of power at that magnitude will create a bigger crater than that asteroid full of ice people did earlier this year!" He shook his head. "We have to find a way to reach Marguerite, get this under control! Do you have any idea where the power is coming from?" He turned his piercing eyes on his friend.

Roxton shifted a bit. He had promised Marguerite he would guard her newest secret about being a reincarnated druid priestess. Of course, he'd thought it merely a dream when he made that indulgent promise after they escaped from the cave. But still, a promise was a promise. She wouldn't be happy about him telling Challenger, even under these circumstances.

He compromised. "Sort of, yes, but do I understand it? No. And can I explain it? Absolutely not."

Challenger couldn't help grinning at the finality of the younger man's tone and words. The older man decided he would refrain from pushing for more information from the obviously intractable hunter. Besides, he should have better luck with Marguerite anyway, once this was over. She could hardly hope to keep this - whatever it was - secret after THIS!

Having decided to keep further questions along that line for later, Challenger turned his full intelligence to figuring out how to get Marguerite's attention.

"Have you tried throwing something at it?" the scientist asked quite practically.

Roxton's brows lifted. "Actually . . . not yet."

Honestly! What was this younger generation coming to?! Challenger slipped off his pack and knelt to settle it carefully on the ground near his work table, absently noting that its contents had been sadly jostled by his wild run back to the tree house after he had heard the 'crack' of the elevator falling. He scooped up a couple stones, as long as he was bent over anyway. Straightening again, he tossed one lightly at the blue aura surrounding Marguerite.

It bounced off.

"Interesting." He wound up and threw the next one as hard as he could, ignoring John's startled exclamation of protest. After all, he was almost one hundred percent certain it wouldn't pass through to actually strike the motionless woman . . .

The second one bounced off, too. And Marguerite didn't appear to notice either event.

Speculatively, the scientist glanced at Roxton's rifle, leaning against the table.

"Oh no you don't!" The alarmed hunter quickly jumped forward and snatched his rifle away, anticipating Challenger's intention of testing bullets on the aura next.

Challenger sighed in resignation. "Of course not," he reluctantly agreed.

Roxton glared at the older man. "Come on, George, think of something! She hasn't moved! It's like she's frozen in that position!" He was getting worried about how she'd held that one graceful gesture for so long now, though he was relieved that it meant the tree house was still there.

Challenger's brow puckered, and he took a step closer to the aura, staring at the woman in its center. "She hasn't moved?" He studied her with renewed interest. He looked over at the heart carved in the tree, then back at the slim heiress. "Ah!" he suddenly said, "She's built a real wall, hasn't she?!"

He knew he had it right when Roxton winced.

Finn! What had the child been thinking to carve 'Marguerite luvs Roxton' like this? Couldn't she at least have done it in a less public place?! And how in the world had he failed to teach her to spell 'love' correctly?

**********

"YOU did WHAT???" Veronica almost shrieked.

Finn cringed. "I don't get it! What's so awful about it? I mean, I thought she would laugh, but as soon as she saw it I knew she was NOT going to laugh - but I don't understand why she got so mad!"

Veronica reined in her desire to set Finn straight about why Marguerite hadn't laughed. That would have to wait for later, it would take too much time now. She had to stick to the main issue here. With careful restraint, she gestured with both palms uplifted and open. "Okay. Let's just calm down. Tell me exactly what DID happen, okay?"

Finn took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay. So I was down below when she got back, cuz she called up before she even got to the fence to let us know she was back and coming in, and I went down cuz I wanted to see her laugh." She paused to take another deep breath, and sniffled a bit. "When she saw it, she went really still, and then something REALLY weird happened."

Finn's brow creased as she earnestly described the way all the sound has suddenly seemed to stop. "Like everything in the jungle was holding its breath all at once!"

Veronica nodded grimly. "I noticed the same thing."

"And then Marguerite got this LOOK on her face, and I just KNEW she was going to kill me!" Finn shivered in fear as she remembered the dark intent in the older woman's enraged eyes. "She started yelling at me - and even though I couldn't understand a word she was saying, Vee, the way she was looking at me made chills run down my back! I mean - I've seen some pretty spooky stuff back in my own time, you know, the future - but Marguerite acting like THIS really scares me! Honest!"

Veronica nodded her understanding. She'd been on the receiving end of a few of Marguerite's more scathing glares, and was well aware that it could shake one's self-assurance.

Relieved that Veronica hadn't scoffed at her, Finn continued. "When she started coming towards me with that look in her eyes, still shouting at me, I ran to the elevator, and came up! Then when she tried to trigger it to come back down to get her, I . . . I panicked and cut the ropes!" the girl confessed with a shame-flushed face. "I'm really sorry I wrecked the lift, Vee."

Veronica patted her shoulder reassuringly. "You probably saved your life by doing that, Finn. You know Marguerite is quite capable of killing, and though I wouldn't ordinarily think for even a moment that she would deliberately hurt any of us these days, with what I saw down there, I don't think she's in complete control right now. Besides, the noise of the crash also brought help back here on the double. I left Roxton down below dealing with Marguerite, so we'll just sit tight right here for now."

Finn shivered again, and sat huddled in a corner chair safely back from the balcony. Miserably, she whispered, "I just wanted to be friends with her. Honest, Vee, I didn't mean to make her mad."

Veronica nodded sympathetically. She took a quick look over the balcony rail in time to see the rock Challenger had thrown at Marguerite's . . . shell . . . bounce off harmlessly. Oh, good! George had come back early, too! Between the two men, they should be able to handle whatever it was that was happening to Marguerite. She glanced back over her shoulder at the younger blonde. "I think her anger is just covering up her hurt, Finn. I'll explain later," she added hastily as Finn's light blue eyes brightened with curiosity at this statement.

Veronica looked back over the balcony rail and had to smother a grin as she saw Roxton hastily snatch his rifle out of the scientist's reach with an indignant look. "I think we have time for you to explain why you thought carving Marguerite's name on a tree like that would help you make friends with her, though," she concluded as she turned away from the sight of the two men down below contemplating Marguerite. They obviously didn't have a clue what to do yet.

Finn nodded, hoping that if she explained it all, Vee could help her understand where she had gone wrong and what she would have to do to make it up to Marguerite. "Well, see, I noticed that Marguerite is different with you guys than with me . . ."

Veronica listened as Finn poured out the story of how she had concluded that teasing Marguerite was the only way to earn her friendship. She was touched by how much the younger blonde yearned for their friend's acceptance. She barely kept herself from chuckling outright when she realized it was John and George who had prompted the young girl's teasing plans. And when Finn revealed, obviously pleased with herself, that the tree graffiti had been inspired by Roxton forbidding her to "speak" about what she had seen, Veronica just couldn't help laughing.

"Oh, I think once this is explained to Marguerite, things will blow over," she assured Finn, knowing that the story would tickle the brunette - after Marguerite got done being angry and was reassured that Finn hadn't been making fun of her, of course.

Finn looked at her hopefully. "You really think so?"

"Yes, I do," Veronica replied firmly. "Furthermore," she paused as she leaned over the rail to see what the two men were up to as she realized how much time had passed. Odd, it looked like they were just standing there . . . doing nothing at all . . . even odder . . . she didn't think Marguerite had moved at all since the last time she'd looked! It was as if the brunette was frozen in place, still poised gracefully looking upward, even her arm was still gesturing upwards! Unfortunately, she also still had that same fiery look in her storm-gray eyes. "Um . . ." what had she been saying? Oh yes! "Furthermore, Finn, I don't think you need to worry about whether Marguerite likes you or accepts you. She does."

Finn got to her feet cautiously. "You mean Roxton has her calmed down now?"

"No, she still looks like she's going to kill you any second now," Veronica grinned at Finn, keeping the younger blonde back from the railing with one hand. "I just meant in general. Marguerite likes you."

"How do you know?" the future girl blinked in confusion, yielding to the cautioning hand and staying away from the edge of the balcony.

"She accepted your gift of honey. She hates honey," Veronica explained. "The only way she can stand it is in tea. Usually the only time she takes it is if she has a seriously sore throat, and then we have to practically force it down her for her own good. But she voluntarily used it this morning, without even making a face, just to please you. Marguerite only bothers to please people she likes," she pointed out, grinning.

Seeing the doubt still remaining in the younger girl's insecure blue eyes, Veronica continued "Not only that, but she's the one who stuck up for you when you weren't home before the storm yesterday. Her Highness," Vee's resigned reference to the older woman's tendency to issue imperial commands made Finn grin briefly. "Issued the orders to the rest of us to have hot water and warm food ready for you when you came home. She even helped make the chowder. So I think you can safely assume she's accepted you being a member of the family around here."

Wonder dawned on Finn's pretty face as she considered Veronica's assessment. She began to smile.

Veronica took another look over the edge of the balcony and chewed on her inner cheek absently, troubled by what she saw on the jungle floor. She didn't like the way Marguerite stood poised there bathed in that amazing glow. It really did look as if she was going to let loose a bolt of lightning at the tree house any moment now. She turned to Finn with a sigh. "I think we should get out of the tree house, just in case. It doesn't look like the guys are making any progress. I'll show you how to climb down. Then I'll check on the men and Marguerite, while you stay out of sight. No sense in risking the chance that seeing you might provoke her further."

**********

Roxton had tried to be patient, really he had. He had watched Challenger as the older man walked around and around Marguerite and her . . . aura. George had been fascinated by the continuation of Marguerite's haunting musical melody, despite the fact that she was otherwise perfectly still. He'd circled her perhaps a half dozen times, and now for a while he'd been standing quite still as he studied her, mulling over something, though he hadn't bothered to share any conclusions yet.

But it had been a bloody hour now!

Surely the tree house's resident genius could have figured out SOMETHING by now!

Just as the tall hunter was about to speak up, the older man abruptly turned and strode purposefully to the table. "Summerlee's Roses!" he muttered, digging into his pack for the sample he had intended to show the Zanga healer tonight.

Challenger looked up at Roxton as he pulled the plant from amongst the other things jammed into his bag. "I believe our Marguerite has frozen, as it were, in the midst of carrying out her act of vengeance for Finn's little mistake because although Marguerite's past experience has provoked a rage within her that wants to retaliate, her more recent emotional blossoming is remembering that Finn is her little sister!" he announced, though he didn't look happy about having come to this conclusion.

The genius started shredding the purple petals of the Summerlee Roses from their stems as he continued his explanation. "I am almost positive that this atmospheric disturbance around her must be some sort of metaphysical manifestation of her anger at being hurt. It must be meant to protect her from whatever painful feelings have been aroused in her. If Finn is correct that aromas can alter moods, then perhaps the scent of Summerlee's Roses can reach through this – this - oh, we'll call it a 'wall', for want of a better word - where rocks and flesh cannot seem to penetrate."

Roxton frowned, following the professor's logic but not sure what good it would do.

The scientist understood the frown, and elaborated, "Once we get her attention, it will be up to you, John, to find a way to physically reach her so that you can stop her from blasting the tree with all of that power that's gathered around her."

The handsome nobleman's frown deepened. How was he supposed to do that?! They had already established that the aura was too hot for them to touch. "The flowers won't get rid of the hot air stuff, will they?"

"Oh, I shouldn't imagine so," Challenger was a little surprised by the question. "The -er - hot air stuff, as you call it, is more likely to incinerate the blossoms than vice versa. But that conflagration should release and atomize the scent, which is my goal."

Much to his own gratification, he achieved his purpose. When he tossed the beautiful blossoms at the blue-hued atmospheric distortion that encapsulated Marguerite, the fragile bits instantly burst into tiny flames. Their refreshing scent was released into the air - and the men could actually see tiny ash particles drift down into the aura and over the motionless woman they had been watching so anxiously.

She remained poised as if to strike at the tree house, just as she had stood for the last hour. But John was relieved to see Marguerite blink for the first time in far too long. Then she drew in a breath. Her arm shifted just a fraction. Quickly, he called her name again. "Marguerite!"

Nothing. Roxton's heart sank as she didn't respond.

"Try again, man!" Challenger urged in a harsh whisper.

So he drew a deep breath and bellowed, "MARGUERITE!" at the top of his lungs. All his fear for her safety - and their future together - came through clearly in that single outburst.

And Marguerite's head swung toward him, her fury instantly replaced by startled concern for the man she loved. Her mysterious singsong chanting ceased abruptly. Eyes glazed and confused, she sought to locate him through the bright shimmer that surrounded her. "John?"

"Incredible!" Challenger marveled to himself as the aura around the slender woman abruptly lost half its circumference.

Roxton seized the moment. He stepped as close as the new size of the 'atmospheric disturbance' would allow, and extended his hand toward Marguerite. "Marguerite . . . come back to me!" he urged.

She started to tremble. Her gaze lifted towards the tree house. "No . . . has to pay . . ."

"Marguerite! LOOK at me!" he commanded hoarsely.

She blinked again and obeyed his voice, her gray-green eyes bewildered at his tone.

John moderated his voice to softness, and smiled at her. "Marguerite, it's okay. There's no need to be angry with any one."

At his words, she tensed again. "But she - they -" she stopped in confusion. The aura lost more of its size. She blinked again, and shivered in the breeze that sprang to life across the plateau with a soft whisper.

"No one here will hurt you, Marguerite. Trust me. Let the anger go, we don't need it. I love you." He moved his hand cautiously closer to the fading light, his warm green eyes encouraging her to respond and accept his hand.

The shimmering waves of air yielded to his movement as Marguerite's now-haunted eyes followed the progress of his hand across the space between them. "Hurts," she whispered uncertainly. "Couldn't make it stop … or go away . . ."

"I know. Let me hold you. It will help you hurt less," John said tenderly. He stepped closer with more boldness as he saw by the clenching of one small fist, where the light was now gathered at its brightest, that she was controlling it now; she wouldn't let the fading blue heat affect him now that she was consciously aware of his presence. "May I hold you?"

Marguerite nodded slowly, her arm lowering to her side. The shimmering aura around her was back to only a golden glow now, close about her body, and it was finally fading away even around her fist. When the last flicker of light departed, Marguerite suddenly staggered. John caught her, of course, steadying her, aware of Veronica appearing around the other side of the tree, of Finn coming to a stop hesitantly behind her, barely in sight, and of Challenger crossing to Veronica and Finn even as he was keenly watching Marguerite, too. The concern for their friend was evident in all their eyes.

"John?" the heiress whispered, lifting exhausted, tear-glistening, lost and lonely eyes to his face. "Why is everything so loud? My head hurts," she added plaintively, struggling not to cry.

"She's right," Veronica whispered to Challenger as the professor reached her side. "Listen!"

Where the eerie silence had reigned over the plateau for the last ninety minutes - was that all it had been?! - now there was a seeming cacophony of normal sounds. Birds screeched and cawed overhead, monkeys chattered in the jungle around them, there were thankfully-distant roars of dinosaurs, and the trickling gurgle of water from the nearby brook was once again in evidence, all joining the breeze that had returned moments before. Even the insects had returned to their usual chirrups and clicks.

"Fascinating!" Challenger nearly rubbed his hands together in glee at the phenomenon.

Veronica cast him a look of amused comprehension, then asked seriously, "Is she going to be all right, George?" nodding toward their dark-haired friend now safely wrapped in her handsome hunter's strong arms.

"Oh, yes, I believe so. She's a strong woman. But whatever in the world was Finn thinking?!" he asked sotto voice, glancing back over his shoulder at the still-pensive girl remaining cautiously behind the massive tree's trunk.

Veronica gave Challenger a stern look, though her lips did twitch. "Would you happen to recall a certain recent conversation you had with Lord Roxton over there, to the effect that getting Marguerite to laugh by teasing her was a sure way to get past her defenses?"

"Well, that isn't exactly what we were -" his jaw suddenly dropped. "Oh no! You don't mean to say - oh, she couldn't have overheard that and thought - Oh dear." Suddenly looking very distressed and harried, George Edward Challenger glanced around helplessly, his blue eyes fastening onto the heart carved into the tree, with its brief message. "And that led to THIS?"

"That," Veronica confirmed dryly, "Along with Finn seeing Marguerite tell Roxton she loves him when he went to kiss her good night last night, after she heard the two of you upstairs. Then John sealed Marguerite's fate by forbidding Finn to speak of it to Marguerite, but didn't explain his reasons. Just like we've never taken the time to explain anything about Marguerite to Finn. So naturally ..."

The tall redhead groaned, and ran a hand through his already mussed hair. "Naturally, she decided to tease without words. Well," he heaved a heavy sigh, "We're just going to have to explain this to her."

"_Which_ her?" Veronica arched a sardonic brow.

He blinked, then saw her point. "Right. Both of them deserve explanations."

He started back toward Roxton and Marguerite, but stopped when Veronica grasped his arm. "No, not yet. Give him a little time with her. Something tells me she needs that right now . . . and so does he."

Challenger nodded slowly. "You may just be right about that," he agreed thoughtfully, impressed yet again with their young hostess's perceptiveness. Not for the first time, he wished he had just a fraction of the skill needed in dealing with people that he possessed in such abundance for dealing with science. "I'll go have a look at the elevator."

Veronica nodded. "Good idea. I'll have a quick talk with Finn."

They each gave Roxton and Marguerite another look before turning away, just to be sure Roxton didn't need any help at the moment. He sat cross-legged on the hard packed earth, holding Marguerite securely on his lap, her head pillowed on his shoulder, rocking her as gently as if she were a child in need of soothing. In fact, neither Veronica nor Challenger had the slightest doubt that this was precisely what was the patient hunter was doing, comforting the child hidden deep in Marguerite.

Marguerite was completely unaware of their movements nearby. Weakened by both the long internal battle over whether to zap the tree house or not, and the energy she had expended in summoning the power that Challenger suspected she had gathered from all around her on the plateau, she clung to John and wept. He gathered the story in broken, somewhat incoherent bits between Marguerite's quiet sobs.

Her name had been written like this before, when she'd been quite young - barely thirteen or fourteen years old, and fervently in love with the handsomest boy in the neighborhood.

But when this had happened back then, her name had been carved into the publicly notable tree to make her the butt of the neighborhood jokes. That she, Marguerite without-a-name-or-home, should have dared to think highly enough of herself to even dream of that boy, let alone to have confided such a foolish whim to another of them, the ones with names and families of their own! Since then, as near as Roxton could tell from the confused phrases she uttered, it had always been the same. This simple romantic gesture, a timeless way of linking two names in romantic love, had never once been offered to please her or honor her, but only to taunt her with the unattainable dreams for which she was repeatedly told she was unfit.

So when she had seen this heart carved into their home, their tree, with a message so similar to the one that had tormented her so long ago, and she'd realized it had been done by Finn - everyone else could spell "love" perfectly - of course Marguerite had instantly KNOWN that Finn was laughing at how unfit she was to love Lord John Roxton!

Yet there had been part of her that resisted the idea of lashing back in retaliation, even while her defensive anger had flared into something she couldn't quite control. She had been frozen in place, torn between wanting to believe the best about Finn's intentions and the internal fury that insisted Finn had meant to hurt and humiliate her. And that power that had gathered around her, trapping her, so hard to hold back, so tempting to use, the burning desire to punish the one mocking her love for John…

Roxton hushed her gently, and assured her lovingly that he was positive Finn had meant no such thing! Although he kept his attention focused on his lady as he soothed her, he was aware that the others were slowly approaching them again.

Veronica had been doing some comforting, too, over on the other side of the tree. She had kept a reassuring arm about Finn's shoulders as she explained a bit more about Marguerite's past than just the bare facts the younger girl had gleaned up until now about the seeming glamour of Marguerite's being Parsifal and having Roxton love her. Finished with the brief but enlightening explanation, the older blonde now brought a contrite and apologetic Finn to where the couple sat. She nodded encouragingly to Finn, and touched Roxton's shoulder.

The handsome hunter didn't take his eyes from the woman in his arms. It was time to test whether his words had truly reached her wounded heart. "Look, Marguerite, Finn's here," he said lightly, encouragingly.

Marguerite lifted her tear-streaked face from his rather damp shoulder and looked up guardedly at Finn. The young blonde dropped to her knees beside the couple, her own eyes glistening with unshed tears for having unwittingly caused this woman who utterly fascinated her to have such pain. "I'm so sorry, Marguerite," she whispered. "In the future where I come from, if somebody writes your name up on the wall like that, you're somebody cuz you HAVE somebody, you know? It never crossed my mind that it might not be the same in your time, I mean here, now. I never meant to make you upset, honest! I just wanted to make you smile, tease you a little, so we could be friends."

Challenger loomed up behind the future girl and put a gentle hand on the top of her head. "I'm afraid John and I must take our share of the blame as well, Marguerite," he spoke up manfully, meeting first Roxton's questioning green gaze, then the heiress's startled blue-green eyes. "It seems Finn overheard Roxton and me as we were discussing how pleasant it had been to see you and Veronica teasing one another, and the mystery of how laughter gets past barriers to friendships."

"And I do so want to be your friend," Finn added, meeting Marguerite's wary blue-green eyes with wistful anxiety clear in her open face.

Roxton groaned. "And then when you heard Marguerite tell me she loves me, and I caught you in the hall afterwards, I told you not to say a word about it!" he recalled. He ignored the way the slender brunette tensed in his arms as he revealed to everyone not only that Finn had overhead something so private, but also what that very private thing had been.

John swiveled a little so he could glance over again at the incriminating carving on the ancient tree that held their home, now understanding exactly why Finn had chosen this method of teasing Marguerite. But he held back the smile tugging at his lips over the way she had gotten around his strict orders not to 'speak' about what she had seen, his hazel-green eyes returning to the lady still snugly cuddled in his arms. He'd just brought their emotions completely into the open . . .

Challenger and Veronica exchanged startled looks at Roxton's boldness in addressing this sensitive issue. Finn, not really aware of the magnitude of what was happening, only nodded contritely at Roxton and gave the brunette her most apologetic look, holding her breath as she waited for a reaction.

For a second there was silence, as they all waited to see what Marguerite would do. She met their eyes fleetingly, and then again more searchingly as she found no sign of ridicule but only genuine concern for her well-being. Roxton let out a gentle breath of relief as he felt her begin to relax against him again. It was going to be all right. She was accepting it - all of it, including his revelation about their feelings for one another!

Marguerite set aside further reflection on the sudden exposure of her love for the hunter, to be returned to later. She understood the anxious look in Finn's blue eyes, and focused on the youngster's part in this. Even as tired as she was, Marguerite had no problem seeing the connection between John's order not to say a word and Finn's creation of the written symbol and its message on the tree. The four anxious people watching her were relieved when her eyes began to twinkle. "Naturally, you thought of a way to tease without doing it aloud!" she drawled, acknowledging the subtle tactic. "Oh, Finn," Marguerite's lips curved upward, and there was no trace of mockery or sarcasm in her amused and candid response, "It's exactly what I would have done!"

Veronica blinked at the admission, and then smothered a grin. Challenger coughed quickly to hide his laughter. Finn looked totally bewildered. But Roxton just laughed outright. "Haven't I been saying since the day she joined us that she reminds me of another lost waif who invited herself along to the plateau?" he teased.

Marguerite stiffened in his arms and punched his chest indignantly. "I was not a - a - a _lost waif_!" she retorted, and then swiveled and glared up at Challenger, who had been foolhardy enough to snicker audibly. "Go away, George," she commanded fiercely.

Undaunted, the senior member of their family ignored the brunette's ire and patted Finn's tousled hair affectionately, quipping, "You see, child, she treats everyone she loves this way!"

Veronica laughed this time, too. "She sure does! I told you she likes you already, Finn." she assured the uncertain girl from the future, ignoring the icy glare Marguerite sent in her direction. "You didn't have to tease her just to become her friend, you already ARE her friend."

"Is that was this was all about?" Roxton marveled, finally linking the pieces of the puzzle together. He'd been too preoccupied with Marguerite to pay much attention to other details before she finally relaxed. "Of course Marguerite is fond of you, Finn. Why, you remind her of herself!" He reached over to touch a light fingertip to the future girl's nose, and winked at her. "You're our little sister!"

"A very pesky little sister," Marguerite snapped crossly, rapidly getting her energy back and tugging herself free of Roxton's arms. "And I'll thank you all to keep your opinions to yourselves! I'm perfectly capable of speaking for myself!" She glared at each of them in turn as she rose to her feet and faced them with a warning frown.

"Well okay, then," Veronica challenged with a broad grin, folding her arms beneath her bosom, her blue eyes dancing with mischief. "Do you like Finn or not?"

Venturing into the spirit of the unusual conversation, since Marguerite wasn't killing any of the others for teasing her like this, Finn added, "Yeah, do you like me or not?" She too straightened to her feet, so she could face the now-pink-cheeked woman directly. The youngest explorer grinned as it suddenly dawned on her that they were ALL teasing Marguerite now, one big happy family! More boldly, she ignored Marguerite's apparent irritation and gleefully repeated, "Well, do you?"

With a huff, the former master triple agent of the Great War spat out, "Of course I like you!"

Delighted, Finn let out a whoop and flung her arms around the dark-haired woman, overbalancing both of them and sending them careening back down onto Roxton just as he was starting to rise from his cross-legged position on the ground.

Laughing, Challenger and Veronica helped the two women off the grinning hunter and back to their feet again, so Roxton could pick himself up from the hard-packed ground.

"Finn, I'd like to ask a favor of you," Roxton said with a smile at the youngster as he cheekily - and publicly - drew Marguerite into his arms and back against his chest. He slid his arms about her slender waist and brushed his jaw against her soft hair to plant a light kiss near her ear.

Finn cocked her head expectantly, grinning widely at Marguerite's self-consciously indignant swat to Roxton's shoulder as payback for this blatant display of affection. "Anything, Big Guy."

"I'd like you to carve another heart, just like the first one, but I want this one to say 'Roxton loves Marguerite'. I'd do it myself, but you've already shown us you can do it beautifully, and I've got a lot of wood to chop and an elevator to rebuild." His hazel eyes danced at Finn, and he winked so she would know he wasn't mad at her for damaging the lift.

After a startled moment during which the tense brunette took quick keen looks at each of the others, Marguerite flushed with pleasure, warmed to find that the others seemed to find nothing remarkable about Roxton's request. In fact, they were actually universally approving of the idea!

And smiles were their only reaction to his public embrace as well! No taunts, no ridicule, no mocking laughter . . .

"I'd be glad to do it, Lord Roxton," Finn accepted the commission with impishly exaggerated formality. "It would be an honor!" She executed an elaborate bow, then spoiled it by giggling.

"Well, if you really must do it, would you at least please carve 'loves' correctly this time?!" Marguerite threw in with a half-smile to soften the criticism. "It's supposed to be spelled l-o-v-e-s."

Finn was offended. "I know how to spell love!" she retorted indignantly. "But where I come from, when you put it in a heart on a wall - or in this case, on a tree," she amended herself, "It's just cooler to spell it l-u-v-s. Honest. Totally cool."

Marguerite arched a fine brow, having learned previously that in Finn's futuristic vernacular, 'cool' was a good thing. "Well, by all means, then, let's make it cooler," she agreed with a regal nod, acting as if she was condescendingly bestowing a gift upon a minion.

It was Veronica who snickered this time, but Finn beamed at Marguerite. "Okay, I will!" She pulled out her knife and started enthusiastically toward the tree. "I'll start right now!" Then she suddenly paused, arrested by a thought, and turned back. "Um, Marguerite?"

"Yes?"

"What was with all that weird light stuff, and the way the jungle went all quiet, and the spooky song?" Finn cocked her head with open curiosity. "I mean, it was really neat and all, but . . . well, how did you do all that?"

Challenger nodded. "I was wondering the very same thing myself," he said, eyes twinkling that it was only the youngest one who was bold enough to actually ask Marguerite this question they had each doubtlessly wondered about. Not that he hadn't planned to bring the topic up himself, once things calmed down a bit more . . . but now that Finn had brought it up . . ."I don't suppose you'd care to enlighten us, would you, my dear?"

Seeing her friend wince and hesitate, Veronica gave the head of the expedition an admonishing look. Marguerite would need to talk this over with her handsome hunter before she was ready to talk to the rest of them about this newest development in her complex life. So the sun-bronzed blonde discreetly changed the subject. "Finn, you really are just like Marguerite, you know, going nearly fearlessly where angels fear to tread." The jungle huntress grinned at Finn's startled questioning look, then turned to her dark-haired friend and added, "Have you noticed that, Marguerite?"

With an appreciative smile for Veronica's tactful provision of a way to avoid the topic, the heiress gave a longsuffering sigh. "Yes, I had noticed that Finn and I do share certain eerie similarities. Scary, isn't it?" She stepped away from the safety of Roxton's arms and started to turn away from the others. A little distance from all of them right now to avoid uncomfortable questions might be in order.

Used to her avoidance, the older explorers would have accepted it and let her go, but Finn didn't give up so easily. "Hey, you didn't answer the question!" she pointed out bluntly.

John grinned down at his lady's frown as she faced the others again, hands now on her slim hips in obvious annoyance. "Finn's got your persistence, too," Lord Roxton pointed out helpfully to his lady.

Finn grinned in delight, successfully diverted. "I do? Wow!"

Marguerite rolled her eyes. "But she has YOUR rudeness!" she scowled at Roxton, ignoring the others.

"Not at all, my dear," the resident peer of the Realm assured her, sweeping his hat off his head and bowing grandly. "I believe that honor must also go to you!"

"Roxton, you -" her lovely eyes were going gray again as they narrowed at him.

"Uh, I'm going to see what's left to be salvaged of the elevator ropes," Veronica said quickly, moving hastily away from the upcoming battle, a smile playing about her lips at their antics.

"I'll come with you; I believe there's plenty of re-usable wood," Challenger swiftly concurred with her tactical withdrawal, his own eyes sparkling at the pair's obvious complicity to avoid discussing another of Marguerite's many remaining secrets . . . at least for the moment.

"I am NOT the rude one!" Marguerite retorted hotly, glaring fiercely at Roxton as she disregarded the others completely, tone dripping ice now. "Just who was it who said -"

"I, uh, think I should . . . go get started now . . ." Finn mumbled, backing away carefully from the bickering couple, following Veronica and Challenger's examples and wondering if her suspicion about this spat could be correct. Vee glanced back at her and nodded approvingly, and the twinkle in her blue eyes had Finn's brows lifting. Had to be . . . the argument wasn't for real, and everyone else knew it! They were letting Marguerite off the hook! Or no, perhaps they were only giving her some time, she realized as she recalled the things Vee had explained about their history with Marguerite. So much was becoming clearer about her new family's way of dealing with the brunette! A thoughtful smile played about her lips as she decided to join the scientist and the huntress instead of staying within sight of the battling pair whose volume was rising ominously behind her. Sure sounded real enough…

Finding the others' backs turned to them, Roxton winked at Marguerite, whose eyes twinkled back at him as they continued to "argue" with one another till the others were all out of sight.

Then Marguerite's angry posture vanished and she rose on tiptoe, taking his hands and placing a tender kiss on his willing lips. "Oh how I do love a man who keeps his word! Thank you!"

Roxton kissed her back and hugged her close, then grinned down into her sparkling blue-green eyes. "I never said I wouldn't demand a price in exchange for guarding your secrets, Miss Krux," he said, waggling his brows at her suggestively, but she only laughed at him, knowing quite well that any price he might ask would be something she was willing to freely give him.

More somberly he added, "You know that as good as it is of the others not to demand immediate answers, we are going to have to talk about this with them, Marguerite."

"Lord Roxton," she purred, "You wouldn't want there to be TWO mistakes made today, would you?" She didn't want to dwell on the unexplained but strangely familiar power that had surged through her with so much potential for destruction. She might have seriously hurt any one of them!

Seeing the shadow threatening to overcome the happy gleam in her eyes, he quickly backed off the topic; he was content to have made his point for now. They would come back to this at a later date, and then, together, when the time was right for her, they would talk to the others about druids and her apparently very real connection with the past. Chuckling, he conceded, "No, no! Finn's mistake will be quite enough to clean up after without contributing any mistakes of my own to the mix - today, at least! Let's go help the others, shall we?"

John smiled approvingly at her when she nodded her willingness to rejoin their friends, marveling at the progress made today when it could have been such a disaster. Marguerite tucked her hand into his with new-born confidence, and they went side by side to join the rest of the family in the work that lay ahead.

***************


End file.
